April is a Promise
by Ryeloza
Summary: A pre-series story in which the girls face cheating husbands, have sex in all the wrong places--or none of the right places--and try to squeeze in a little time for poker. Takes place in April 2003.
1. Introduction

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the tiniest bit of _Desperate Housewives_. This is all for fun. Oh, and the title comes from a quote by Hal Borland: "April is a promise that May is bound to keep." I don't own that either.

**Story Summary: **A pre-series story in which the girls face cheating husbands, have sex in all the wrong places (or none of the right places), and try to squeeze in a little time for poker. Takes place in April 2003.

**A/n: **Some of this might contradict stuff that has been stated on the show; specifically the events surrounding Susan and Karl's break-up. But frankly, the show has contradicted itself on that matter enough times that I feel okay taking some liberty for entertainment purposes. And there is some method to my madness, if you can believe it. Enjoy!

**April is a Promise**

A story by **Ryeloza**

**Introduction**

Susan Mayer was having an exceptionally bad day. That morning, she woke up to find that her husband, Karl, had not come home the night before. Over breakfast with her daughter, she tried to console herself with the idea that Karl had a huge client for whom he was working around the clock. By the time Julie left for school, that rationalization flew from Susan's thoughts as the lipstick-stained shirt she'd found a few weeks previously flared to the forefront of her mind. By ten she was searching the hamper for further incriminating evidence and by noon she was pacing the house carrying a suit jacket that smelled suspiciously like cheap whore.

It was not until nearly three o'clock that afternoon, though, that Susan finally worked up enough anger to go confront Karl at his office. She thought that perhaps a little public humiliation in front of the firm partners might make Karl keep it in his pants—if, of course, he was actually having an affair; Susan wouldn't fully admit it without direct proof. When she arrived at the office, however, she found no Karl and not even a secretary from whom to demand an explanation for his absence.

At four fifteen, Susan Mayer stood at her husband's desk writing a nasty note entailing each of his flaws by order of severity when she was interrupted by Mindy Bink, one of Karl's associates. They'd gone out to dinner with Mindy and her husband more than once; Susan loathed her.

"Karl won't be back for awhile," Mindy said casually. She leaned against the doorframe watching Susan with a quirked eyebrow and a smirk. "Do you want me to give him a message?"

"Where is he exactly? He didn't say anything about having to be in court today."

Mindy shrugged. "I hear that the motel on Route 8 is his new favorite. You might try him there."

"Motel? Why would Karl be at a motel?"

"I think you know." Mindy flashed an ugly smile and turned to leave. "I'll tell Karl you stopped by."

Speechless and fuming, Susan thought that this was likely to be a horrible day.

When she arrived at the motel and spotted Karl pushing his secretary against his car, practically mauling her right there in the parking lot, Susan thought that it was probably one of the worst days of her life.

But it was that night, arriving home after a lot of crying and swearing and driving aimlessly, that Susan knew that it was certainly the worst day of her life. As she opened her front door, she was greeted by a loud chorus of, "Surprise!"

Even though all of her friends and neighbors stood crowded in her house, greeting her with laughter and clapping and excitement, the only thing Susan saw was Karl, who stood front and center with a huge grin and a sheet cake that read, "Happy Birthday Susan!" in large green icing.

"Happy birthday, Susie Q," said Karl. "Are you surprised?"

Without a thought, Susan stepped towards him and pushed the cake right into his face.


	2. Chapter One

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the tiniest bit of _Desperate Housewives_. This is all for fun. Oh, and the title comes from a quote by Hal Borland: "April is a promise that May is bound to keep." I don't own that either.

**April is a Promise**

A story by **Ryeloza**

**Chapter One  
**

_Two Weeks Previously_

* * *

On a rare, lucky day, Lynette Scavo could sleep soundly enough that she would wake up to the feel of phantom kisses against her skin—the result of some fantastically raunchy dreams and the reality of too little sex. But as those days were both rare and lucky, Lynette more often than not woke up to a kick in the shin or a knee in her back. This was the result of her three-year-old climbing into bed with her most nights. In the past month, Parker had developed some aversion to the dark that his older brothers—who Lynette sometimes thought might be almost stupidly fearless—had never shared. Several nights a week now she woke up in the middle of the night when Parker entered the room and crept into bed. This was why when the door creaked open Lynette barely batted an eyelash, simply rolling over to allow Parker more room. A moment later, when she felt the bed dip under the weight of someone much bigger than Parker, her heart sped up a little. Surely, though, she was just dreaming again.

Strong arms slid around her and she felt a nose nuzzle the back of her neck followed by a gentle kiss; the smell of the airport and too many nights in a cheap hotel mixed with that scent she knew was distinctly Tom—all of the sensations combined were too real to be part of a dream and Lynette turned over to face her husband.

"You're home?" Tom kissed her—once, twice, three times—and she brought a hand up to rest against his cheek.

"Hi," he said against her lips before kissing her again.

"Hi." Lynette pulled back a little so she could actually look at him, but Tom followed her, hovering so far over her that she had to roll onto her back. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the dark she could see that he had shed his suit jacket and pants before climbing into bed; she fiddled with his tie as he smiled down at her. "I thought that I was supposed to pick you up in the morning."

"We had a chance to catch an earlier flight. Jim's daughter's birthday is tomorrow and he wanted to get home." Tom brushed some hair away from her cheek. "God, I missed you."

Tom dipped his head and kissed her breastbone, his hair tickling her nose. She ran her hands over his hair and sighed. "Sweetie, it's two in the morning. The twins have preschool at eight tomorrow. As much as I've missed you, I need my sleep."

Sitting up and kneeling between her legs, Tom began to unbutton his dress shirt. "Well lucky for you, I have the whole day off tomorrow. I'll get up and deal with the kids in the morning."

"I think I've heard that one before."

Tom peeled off his shirt and tossed it onto the floor and despite herself, Lynette finished undoing his tie and it joined his shirt. Just as she wriggled out from under the covers and wrapped her legs around Tom, she heard the familiar tell-tale squeak of the bedroom door and sighed deeply. Apparently unaware of the third party in the room, Tom leaned down to kiss her again. Before he reached her lips, Lynette pushed against his chest until he was upright again and she was seated awkwardly in his lap. Still not getting the hint, Tom settled his hands on her ass and tipped backwards so he was lying down and she was still sitting up on top of him. "So you want to be on top, huh?" he asked with a wicked grin.

"Daddy?"

Almost comically, Tom craned his neck backwards over the edge of the bed to look at Parker. "Hey, buddy. What are you doing out of bed?"

"I don't like my bed. Can I sleep in here?"

Lynette climbed off of Tom and he sat up and turned around so he was facing Parker. "Honey, you really need to start sleeping in your own bed again. I'm sure your dad will tuck you back in."

"No!" Parker rushed over to the side of the bed and twisted some of the comforter into his little fists. "I hate my bed! I wanna sleep with you and Daddy! Please!"

Tom shot her a look and Lynette subtly shrugged her shoulders. Probably she should have dealt with this a month before when it started, but Tom had been gone twenty out of the thirty-one days in March and it had been easier just to let Parker climb into bed in the middle of the night. Even now she felt the same exhaustion she usually did and simply wanted to vow to deal with it tomorrow. Since Tom was supposed to be at home for most of the next month this really couldn't keep happening.

"This is the last night, Parker," Lynette said, reaching over and hoisting him up into the bed. Beside her she could feel Tom wilt with the knowledge that they wouldn't be having sex. She pulled the covers back to let Parker crawl over her into the middle of the bed; simultaneously, Tom climbed out of bed.

"Where are you going?" She lay back down and Parker scooted closer to her, resting his head on her chest. Lightly, she ran her fingers up and down his am.

"To get a shower. A long, cold one."

Lynette smiled and kissed the top of Parker's head.

* * *

Bree Van de Kamp detested arguing with her husband, but the act was particularly reprehensible first thing in the morning. Rex had never been particularly pleasant in the morning, but on this particular Friday he seemed ready to argue over every word she said. "I don't understand why we need a house sitter. We're only going to be gone for four days."

"I just need someone to come in and turn on the sprinklers to water the lawn. I told you that I'm planning to enter that lawn and garden contest next month. I won't have a long weekend away ruin my chances of winning."

Rex rolled his eyes and she turned to pick up the vase of flowers she had been arranging. "You know, if you had just gotten that automatic sprinkler system I asked for, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"That sprinkler system costs a fortune. It's already as easy as flicking a switch; you don't need it programmed to start on its own."

Bree set the flowers on the table and smoothed the tablecloth. "Whatever you think is best, dear. But I'm going to have a house sitter."

"Who are you asking?"

"Mary Alice. She's the only one I trust to remember to do it."

"She's not going to let Paul over here, is she?"

"Why would she bring Paul over?"

"I don't know. We don't know what she'll do while we're not here."

Bree crossed her arms over her chest. "Why are you so upset about this?"

"I don't like the idea of people being in our house while we're not here. It makes me uncomfortable."

"Rex, we've known Mary Alice for years. She's the most stable person I know. We don't have anything to worry about. Now finish your breakfast."

As it seemed he always did recently, Rex did exactly the opposite of what she asked and stood up, throwing his napkin down on the table. "I'm finished." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you tonight."

Bree nodded and sank into Rex's vacated seat, allowing herself exactly one minute to privately worry about her marriage. For whatever reason, Rex had been distant and contrary lately, and though Bree publicly wrote his behavior off as due to stress at work, she was beginning to wonder if it was actually because of her. Hopefully in two weeks, on their weekend away, she'd be able to find that bit of spark that had been missing as of late.

Momentarily appeased by her own reasoning, Bree stood up and began to clear away the breakfast dishes.

* * *

Mary Alice Young was on genuinely pleasant terms with all of the residents of Wisteria Lane, but that didn't mean that there weren't a few that she privately disdained. Martha Huber, of course, was a nosy pest, but she was also relatively harmless. And at times Carlos Solis seemed to treat his wife more like a possession than a person, though at least Gaby held her own with him. So it was, in fact, Karl Mayer who was the sole resident of the street that Mary Alice simply couldn't stand. Everyone knew that Karl was a pig; even Susan knew that deep down. But Susan was also in denial and in love and Karl's glee in taking advantage of those qualities grated on Mary Alice's last nerve. This was why when she spotted him walking across the street toward her, she had to fight the urge to turn on heel and go back in the house.

"Hey! Mary Alice!"

With a forced smile, Mary Alice approached the edge of her yard and tried not to grimace when Karl leaned against her recently repainted fence with a coquettish grin. "Hello, Karl."

"I need your help, Mary-Mary Quite Contrary."

Mary Alice involuntarily clenched the hoe she held in her hands. "With what?"

"Well you know Susie's birthday is in a couple of weeks. I was planning to just take her out of town for the weekend. You know, get a little action on the beach."

"Charming as usual, Karl. Do you want us to watch Julie?"

"Well the plan fell through. I'm swamped at work. So I thought instead I'd throw Susan a surprise party."

"That's actually a great idea, Karl."

"You sound surprised." Mary Alice shook her head, but Karl simply laughed. "You're a bad liar, Mrs. Young. But hopefully you can keep this a secret from Susan. I was hoping you'd help me plan it. You know, keep Susie out of the house that day and stuff."

"Sure. I'd be happy to. For Susan."

"Oh, of course. I didn't think you'd do it for me."

Mary Alice felt her cheeks flush and she cursed herself for it; a person like Karl shouldn't be worth this trouble. "When are you having it?"

"April nineteenth. Two weeks from today."

"Two weeks? Karl, that's a little last minute."

Karl shrugged. "What can I say? I'm spontaneous!" He reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a piece of paper. "I figured you'd say yes, so I made up a list of things you can do for me. You know: get the ball rolling."

Mary Alice took the paper and unfolded it, her mouth dropping open at the list of twelve items. "Karl, this is practically all of the work!" She looked back up, but Karl was already halfway across the street again. "Karl!"

"I'm going to be late! Thanks for the help! You're the best!"

Mary Alice slipped the paper into her pants pocket and prayed for strength. This was all for Susan, after all. And Susan deserved it, even if Karl didn't.

That's what she'd keep telling herself.

* * *

Gabrielle Solis sat in bed with her legs pulled to her chest, lazily watching her husband run around the room getting dressed for work. He'd forgotten to set the alarm clock last night, woken up frantic, and then begun to get ready like a mad man. The erratic motions and fairly constant swearing amused her and she felt especially content to stay lackadaisically in bed, quietly laughing at him.

"Where the hell is my tie?" Carlos yelled from the closet.

Gaby yawned loudly. "What tie?"

She heard a drawer slam and Carlos growled. Seconds later he came back into the room, glaring at her while knotting his tie. "You could be doing something helpful, you know."

"Why? I'm not the one who forgot to set the alarm."

"I didn't get home until almost midnight! You should have set the alarm before you went to sleep!"

Gaby shrugged a shoulder. "I forgot?"

Carlos rolled his eyes and checked the mirror to make sure his tie was straight.

"Oh, and speaking of forgetting, you better not forget that we're having dinner with my grandmother tonight. You have to be home by six."

"I can't promise that!"

"Too late. You already did. Be home by six."

"Gaby, I'm already an hour late for work. Do you really think I'll be getting out of there early tonight? Be sensible!"

"Fine. We're meeting her at the restaurant at seven. You can join us there. Happy? A whole extra hour just for you."

Carlos turned around. "Don't expect me before nine."

"Dinner is at seven."

"Gaby!"

Slowly, languorously, Gabrielle stretched all of her limbs like a cat and practically hummed as she rolled over and snuggled back into the covers. She could feel Carlos' hot glare on her back, and smiled to herself. "Seven o'clock, Carlos. Or you'll be very, very sorry."

When she didn't get a response beyond the door slamming, Gaby knew she had won.


	3. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer: **This does not belong to me.

**A/n: **It's been a year since I updated this (to the day, actually), but I hate to leave fics unfinished, so I decided to try my hand at this again. I hope you enjoy and please review.

-Ryeloza

**April is a Promise**

A story by **Ryeloza**

**Chapter Two**

"We're late," said Bree. She cast an annoyed look in Susan's direction as she turned the corner for the third time, searching desperately for a parking spot that probably wasn't going to appear. The five of them had agreed to meet up for lunch today, and somehow she'd ended up stuck in the car with Susan while Gaby, Mary Alice and Lynette finagled to meet there. Punctuality wasn't Susan's strong suit.

"Look!" Susan pointed out a parking space, turning on her blinker and bouncing a little in her seat. "I told you we'd find a spot. You've been spoiled by valet parking."

Bree was hardly paying attention. Across the street she'd spotted their friends, still a block away from the restaurant, but simply standing around chatting. Bree was beginning to think that it was very possible that she was the only one who cared that they had a reservation.

Susan parked the car, getting out and immediately letting out an inappropriately loud yelp to get the attention of the other girls. Gaby turned and waved them over. "Hurry up!" she shouted.

"I know, I know," said Bree, hurrying across the street with Susan lagging just behind. "We're late."

"No." Gaby shook her head, taking Susan's hand as they reached the sidewalk. Her eyes were lit up like it was Christmas morning. Joyously, she pointed into the window of the shop they stood outside of; a display of scantily clad mannequins stared blankly out at them. Bree glanced at them disdainfully. "They're having a sale and Lynette is miraculously kid-free today. It's a sign."

Lynette smirked. "Are you telling me that if I had the boys here, we wouldn't go in?"

"No. I'm saying _you_ wouldn't go in. So see, this is fate!"

"We agreed to lunch," said Bree firmly, smoothing the front of her skirt. The action was akin to a nervous twitch for someone with less class. "I'm not going in there."

"Bree, if you're about to confess to us that you own no lingerie, I'm going to be forced to shoot you. Or myself. Maybe both."

Bree flashed Gaby her version of a scowl. "My undergarments are none of your business."

"I wasn't asking for an itemized list."

Even though Bree was more than prepared to ignore Gaby as she usually did, the rest of the girls were looking at her in that special way that they reserved just for her. Laughter, curiosity, a smidgen of pity—it wasn't Bree's favorite combination. Barely able to keep the heat out of her cheeks, she said, "Rex has, on occasion, purchased a few naughtier articles of clothing for me."

Susan gripped Lynette's forearm as the latter pressed her lips together so tightly they almost disappeared; Gaby and Mary Alice simply gawked at her. "Well," said Gaby, after an unbearably long pause, "at least you know what he likes."

"Well after sixteen years of marriage, I would certainly hope so."

"Right. Let's go in."

"Oh, Gaby—"

"Come on, Bree," said Lynette, forcibly grabbing her arm and propelling her through the door. "It's not going to kill you."

"I know that. I'm not a prude, you know."

Bree's comfort level dropped the moment they walked into the store. She knew that it was irrational—she had her fair share of lingerie—but the idea of her friends knowing what she owned made her slightly queasy. It seemed like the kind of information that should stay in the bedroom between her and Rex. And she certainly didn't need to know what her girlfriends did in the privacy of their own homes.

"Oh!" gasped Susan, brushing past Bree into the store. "They have those fuzzy handcuffs Karl likes!"

Bree and Lynette froze as Susan hurried over to the display. "Well I could have gone without knowing that," said Bree under her breath.

"That goes for all of us."

"Do you know how cheap those are?" asked Gaby. She took the pair Susan was fingering lovingly and tossed them aside. "You can have a pair of mine. I have more than I need."

"Yeah," sighed Lynette, bringing a slight smile to Bree's face for the first time. "Didn't really need to know that either."

In the five months they'd known one another, Bree had never been shopping with Gaby. Susan had been several times, though, and after each excursion, she returned with more than she needed or could afford, moaning and whining for days about how much she'd spent before she ended up taking most of it back. Within five minutes, Bree realized exactly why this kept happening. Gaby was a force to be reckoned with, flitting from one rack to another, grabbing anything that might possibly be worth trying on. It was not at all surprising that Susan, susceptible on her best days, got caught up in the whirlwind.

"I feel like there should be commentary," Lynette said. "It's like watching a sporting event."

Their snickering drew Gaby's attention; Susan, the only one who had been following her, actually bumped into her when she stopped short. "Am I really the only one who's going to shop?"

"Maybe."

"Give me a break." Gaby shook her head disapprovingly and shoved half of her clothes into Susan's hands. "There is always a reason to shop for lingerie."

"What's yours? Boredom?"

"Mine is the best reason of all—revenge."

"Gaby—"

"Shh," hissed Mary Alice. She batted a hand in Bree's direction. "I want to hear where this is going."

"Carlos is supposed to show up to dinner with me and my grandmother tonight," said Gaby matter-of-factly. "In fact, he promised he'd be there. Then suddenly this morning, he announced that he has to work late."

"Well—"

"No, there's no 'well.' There's no 'but.' I told him he better be there or else. This," she said, holding up a short, silky teddy, "is 'or else.'"

"What if he does show up?"

"Then it's a reward. So which one says, 'Thanks for putting up with my grandmother' better? Black or red?"

Susan cocked her head to the side. "I like the red."

"Hmm." Gaby took both and moved to the next rack. "So am I the only one getting laid around here?"

"Lingerie isn't going to solve my problem," said Lynette, but she reached out to tentatively finger a lacy purple bra. "Parker's decided our bed is his."

"So get a lock and then buy this." Gaby tossed something skimpy and see-through in Lynette's direction. "The blue will bring out your eyes."

Lynette held the chemise up against her and grinned. "I don't think Tom's going to be looking at my eyes."

"Lynette!"

"Oh, lighten up, Bree." Gaby rolled her eyes and started to dig through a lot of black, lacy negligees attached to garters. "I'm guessing the dirtier the better for Rex, right?"

"Oh no. Absolutely not. You are not picking out my lingerie."

"Good girl gone bad thing," Gaby continued as though Bree hadn't spoken. "Here we go."

Gaby had pulled out the most absurdly complicated lingerie that Bree had ever seen. There were straps and garters and a corset back and, to Bree's horror, the entire thing appeared to be constructed out of some faux leather. "I am not wearing that."

"Yes you are. Aren't you and Rex going away in a couple weeks? He won't be able to keep his hands off you."

Bree took the hanger, eyeing the garment with something between horror and intrigue. As much as she didn't want to contemplate the possibility of indulging this monstrosity, at the same time, it seemed ages since Rex had actually been insatiable. And Gaby did seem to be some kind of expert about these things…

"Mary Alice, ruffles and lace. Super girly. Let's see…"

Surreptitiously, Bree draped the lingerie over her arm. At the very least, it didn't hurt to think about it.


End file.
